It’s 10:30am
Do you know where your children
are?
It’s A’s
way of
waking me up.
I had been
waiting for someone
and
running up and down 49 flights of stairs.
It felt
good: the fatigue in my legs,
the
twist in my torso.
I got
tired of how long it took to get
anywhere.
So I fast-forwarded
to the
moment where we meet,
where you walk slowly towards me
and give
me a simple embrace,
where the architecture of dreams
crumbles.
A is
laying his head on my chest. He says
my eyes
look like I was just born. I say
sleeping
is tough business.
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